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No, no, no, no, no, that fucking traitor—
And with a snap he was…
Charlie blinked. He was exactly where he had been, but his wound was closed up. No one else was there. Arthur was gone. The Butcher’s body, headless, blood soaking into the carpet. Larson gone…
He looked around frantically. He couldn’t trust this right? It could still be the Dreamlands, it could still—
“Tada!” Kayne sang, snapping back into existence in front of him wiggling his finger tips. “Sorry about the wait, those two just go on and on and on and on. Can barely get a word in edgewise!” He laughed to himself.
Charlie was trying to take in air.
“What? Nothing? No applause? Not even a thank you for the free wound care?” Kayne huffed. “Oh. What? Did you think I had popped you back to the Dreamlands with Wally and the King? Oh sweetheart, I was only joking,” Kayne snickered.
“Joking?” Charlie repeated in outrage. “You son of a bitch.” He grabbed Kayne by his collar, hauling him up by the scruff.
Kayne wasn’t phased. “Son of an idiot actually, but don’t worry about it.” He waved his hand casually. “Come on then.”
Charlie gripped him tighter. “What? He sneered.
“Have at it. All the questions.” Kayne said, still perfectly limp. “Why did you kill the Butcher? Why did you let Larson live? Why did you restore the King’s memories and send him on his merry way? Why did—”
Charlie shoved him away angrily. Kayne did some kind of quickstep dance move to regain his balance.
“Where did you take Arthur?”
“Oh?” Kayne tilted his head. “You want to know about Archie?”
“You said,” fuck. Fuck. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him. You said this was about the King.”
“John,” Kayne corrected. “And sure. It was about the deal I made with him, yes.”
“And what fucking deal with was that?”
Kayne raised an eyebrow. “Huh… oh Detective, are you … angry with me? After all we’ve been through?”
Charlie’s hand shook, but he felt… better. The gunshot wound had completely closed over. He placed his hand on it, felt the rough scar.
Kayne’s eyes didn’t leave him.
He flinched. Kayne was suddenly there, tilting up his chin. “Isn’t it cute? You and Artie match now. A proper set. Collect all two—”
Charlie took a step back. Kayne let him.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt him,” Charlie repeated. “You said it wasn’t about him!”
“Oh my steel-eyed-dreamboat!” Kayne sighed piteously. He fanned himself as if he was getting warm. “Don’t you see? I didn’t hurt him. Didn’t touch a hair on his pretty little head. And it isn’t about him. Not at all. This is all about me. He’s important, very important, integral, but it’s not ABOUT him.”
“You were manipulating me.”
“Of course, but don’t think that doesn’t mean I’m not fond of you, kid,” Kayne said carelessly mimicking his accent. He hopped up the steps and circled the display where the Stone sat.
“You promised me revenge.”
Kayne sighed happily. “Yes, I did, didn’t I? Such a pleasure. You’re so… straight forward! You know exactly what you want! Bloody terrible revenge against an old god! Fuck, who wouldn’t love you?” He took the Stone in his hand and started idly tossing it up and down like a baseball. He pointed at Charlie. “You were the one that got cold feet when you learned about Arthur, not me. I gave you your avenue—two actually. Two Kings, two opportunities, you blew it, not me.”
He gritted his teeth. “You didn’t exactly prepare me. You could have told me what John was before I walked into this shit.”
“And where would the fun in that be?” Kayne replied. “You’re the one that forgave him. He even saved you! Half of the soul of the thing that tortured you for ten straight years, and he manifested himself to rescue you! It was touching!”
“It was a lie,” Charlie said shortly. “Because this whole time he was working with you!”
Kayne tutted. “Nuh, uh, uh. He was working FOR me. Just like you! It’s a very important distinction.”
“He was Arthur’s friend and he was willing to sacrifice him for his own selfish—”
“Does that remind you of someone we know?” Kayne asked in amusement.
“Fuck off.”
“Okay, okay, okay, I’m sorry Charlie, I am, but the plan doesn’t stop just because I’ve grown a soft spot for you. Ugh, two humans I have my eyes on. I’ll never be able to live it down.” He was up close again, grinning at him. He reached out and caressed Charlie’s face as if to comfort him.
“What do you want Arthur for?”
“Jealous? You don’t need to worry, Charlie. I have two hands—well I can have far more than just two—you get it.”
Charlie glared at him and Kayne had leaned in, they were cheek to cheek, Kayne nuzzling him.
Charlie closed his eyes, breathing him in.
“Maybe I should be the jealous one,” Kayne chuckled darkly. “Arthur this, Arthur that. Did he really make that much of an impression?”
“Kayne—”
Kayne’s lips brushed his.
“Or,” he said “Is it that he’s you. Poor broken Charlie, a little younger, a little less sense, a little more British. A charming little puppet the King has his strings in.”
“Shut up.”
“Mmm don’t mind if we do,” Kayne said, kissing him properly.
And Charlie kissed back, knowing he shouldn’t, but wanting to anyway. Craving it because Kayne had kept him sane. This bastard. This monster was his thread of sanity, and even two years in the real world he couldn’t let him go. He didn’t want to let him go. He accepted it. He accepted all of it, and all of it included Kayne.
Kayne hummed in satisfaction. It was a nice kiss. No biting, no blood. Just an indulgence.
“What were we talking about?” Kayne asked rhetorically, basking in the afterburn of the kiss. “Oh right. The most recent toy of the King.”
Charlie tried to pull back, he really did, but Kayne held his hands to keep him close and he didn’t try to break free. He looked down.
“Arthur’s mine,” Kayne said bluntly. He squeezed Charlie’s hands. “Just like you my beautiful detective. They always say you should adopt in pairs, don’t they?”
Charlie looked up sharply, glaring at him.
Kayne’s grin was wide and sharp. “Alright, alright. He’s not mine yet, and he won’t be mine like you are. He's not my type. Too whiny.” Kayne let go of one of his hands and reached up to stroke his cheek. “Him and I don't have the same hobbies like we do.”
“You said—”
“I am not the King in Yellow, pet,” Kayne said reassuringly. “I’m not putting you in a pit. I’m not going to hold either of you against your will. I’m not breaking your mind. I’m not even going to break his, and trust me, it would be so easy for me to break his mind. You asked for the chance to kill the King in Yellow. I asked you to work for me. None of it’s changed.”
“John isn’t the King,” Charlie finally admitted. “He…” he closed his eyes. “He cares about Arthur. He saved me. Whatever deal you made… it was under duress. You’ve been leading me on. You wanted me there to fuck with him. You—”
Kayne held him. He chuckled helplessly. “Oh Charlie, do you forgive him?”
“I… no. I don’t forgive the King, but John isn’t—”
“Let me show you something.”
And with a snap they were somewhere else. Once again he felt himself tense, ready to see the eerie shores of the lake, or the caves, or the goddamn pit, but they were in a music room stuffed into an office. There were sheets of paper here and there. An old couch. A piano.
At the piano was Arthur and Kayne.
Charlie moved to go forward, about to call out.
Kayne slammed a hand over his mouth.
Charlie’s eyes widened, looking between the two Kaynes.
Kayne brought his finger up to his lips. Then kissed his ear. “I love this part.” he whispered.
Arthur was playing a song on the piano.
“It’s quite the stick.” Arthur said, voice utterly neutral.
“You can’t even fathom,” the other Kayne said with a nasty grin. And then he sighed, his expression clearing.
Arthur stopped playing, his hands in his lap.
The other Kayne was calm and light despite the obvious moment of tension that had just passed. “Look, boys. This is easy. Easy, easy, easy, easy, easy. I mean. I assume. Now! You two. Fighting over and over again. Look, I’m not a monster. I just want the Stone. So! Before I send you on your merry way, John-boy, let’s chat!” He gave a playful smack to Arthur’s left hand.
Arthur quickly pulled his hand away, watching suspiciously.
“About what?”
Charlie froze. It was his voice.
“Oh, can’t you feel it? The tension? Arthur’s so upset about our little side deal. You choosing to keep it from him…” the other Kayne said mockingly.
His Kayne shrugged. He let Charlie go. Charlie didn’t move to interrupt. He couldn't move. He needed to know.
“I had no choice.” ‘John’ said quickly.
“Sure.” The other Kayne rolled his eyes. “Anyway! I want everything to be as smooth as ice. So! I’ll make you a little offer. Call it DC al Coda!”
His Kayne was mouthing the ‘lines’ He silently giggled over his own joke.
The other Kayne slung his arm around Arthur, shaking him back and forth playfully. “That’s a joke for Arthur and I, John.” He straightened and let Arthur go. “How would you like me… to wipe… Arthur’s... Memory?” he asked, drawing it out smugly.
Charlie turned to his Kayne accusingly.
Kayne winked, bringing his finger to his lip again and pointing.
“What?”
“Not entirely, mind you!” the other Kayne explained quickly. He leaned in close. “Just the little revelation we spoke about, back in New York.”
Arthur slid away on the bench, panic rising.
“What?” ‘John’ said in surprise.
The other Kayne reached over, grabbing Arthur and petting his hair as if to sooth him. “I could wipe it from his mind, so he wouldn’t remember that you lied to him!”
Arthur didn’t try to get away, quaking with fear, obviously terrified.
“John,” he said wetly. He was begging. It was obvious he was begging. “Do not—”
The other Kayne was quick. He freed Arthur and hopped off the bench. “It’s a one-time offer, John! A way to start fresh. A little boost to make you two play nice! And then you can get my Stone. What do you say?” he asked with a flourish.
“I—I…”
“John. Listen to me,” Arthur said urgently. He stood too now, on shaky legs. It looked like he was trying to reach for his left hand, which was perfectly still, not trembling like the rest of him.
“I—I don’t want to…” the voice from Charlie’s nightmares said. It didn’t even sound like it had convinced himself.
“Don’t you do this. I—” Arthur said, trying to sound calm, he managed to grab his left hand, holding it.
“Roland, please don’t do this,” he begged. He had fucking begged him.
“Do it.” the King and Roland’s voices overlapped as one.
“I’m sorry Charlie, I’m sorry, I just can’t. I can’t do this anymore. I’m so sorry, but—”
“Say it.”
“You can have him. You can have him if you just let me go.”
The King’s laughter echoed in Charlie’s mind as he watched them. Watched it happen again.
Arthur let go of his own hand. “No,” he said in disbelief. “No.” He said louder, angrier. Noel could see streaks of tears in the dim light of the room.
“Do it, Kayne.” The King said with more confidence now, and his Kayne had to grab him. What would he even have done? He had no way to reach into Arthur and pull the bastard out himself, but he—
He watched as Arthur backed away from Kayne. Just like Charlie had. Tears dripping down his face. Betrayal etched.
“Nah,” the other Kayne said, finally putting an end to it.
No. I think this just shows that you’ve nothing left to offer me Roland. But thank you for helping me with him. Good night.
A snap and the scene was gone. They were in the Order again, but Charlie watched as Roland’s soul was rend and heard him scream.
And he had laughed. He had fucking laughed because Fuck him. He was supposed to be his friend! Fuck him!
“There, there, I know that was a lot,” Kayne said airily, dabbing Charlie’s face with a handkerchief.
He gasped. “He…why did you?”
“Do that?” Kayne asked. “Thought it would be funny.”
“You!”
“Besides, that,” Kayne held up his hands before Charlie could fucking attack him. “Both of you needed to know the truth, right? John talks a very good game, but you see it, don’t you? No matter how human he pretends to be he is still the King in Yellow. A manipulator. Doing what he needs to, to get what he wants. You know the King better than any human on the planet, my heart. You know his tricks. You’ve seen his acts. He can make himself sound human, that’s easy, and our poor sweet Arthur,” Kayne flicked away an imaginary tear of his own. “Well, he doesn’t know any better does he? ‘John’ has him twisted right around his weird wooden pinky.”
“You!” Charlie choked angrily.
“He’ll probably even forgive him,” Kayne continued, laughing. “Arthur’s a sucker.”
“And you’re trying to help him? Help me?” Charlie asked in disbelief. “You’re exactly like the King.”
Kayne actually looked insulted by that. “I’m nothing like Hastur, Hotlips! Hastur is a means to an end. He has good taste in humans, but that's about it." He leered, but instantly backed off. "Maybe I’ve been a bit forceful with you, Charlie, but I have never lied. Not about the things you really care about. What were those again?”
“You…”
“Go on.”
“You would help me kill the King in Yellow. And you would help me make it hurt.”
“Yes,” Kayne whispered sweetly. “The moment I fell for you, Charles. And? What else did you ask?”
“For you to never leave me.”
“And here I am,” Kayne gestured, smiling as if it was as easy as all that. “You and me together, Dimples. My plans are convoluted, I’ll admit. Sometimes I’m going to manipulate you, that’s who I am, and you have always known that, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Charlie said between his teeth, but he was softing now.
It had hurt.
But Kayne had shown him a truth.
“Here. You’ve been so good and patient with me. I’ll give you the happy ending.” Kayne said sincerely. “I’m going to see to it that you get to kill the King. All of him. And you’re going to make him suffer, and it’s going to hurt, and he will beg you before you are even close to being done.”
Charlie breathed in and out.
Kayne took his hand, patting it.
“I’ll even throw in Arthur! You can save him! Save him like no one ever saved you! Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“Adopted pairs?” Charlie said dryly. He turned his hand around to take Kayne’s in his.
“Good for your sanity, pet,” Kayne chuckled. “Like I said. I don’t want him like I want you, but you could use the company. Wouldn’t it be nice? The King in Yellow on his … metaphorical knees, a friend that understands you, that would never betray you? A god you can fuck? Come on Charlie. How good is that? One more time. For me?”
Charlie caught him by the collar and kissed him hard. Kayne moaned into it. This kiss was rougher, needier, promising all the things they had between them. He could believe it. He could taste it. He would get what he wanted and get to keep what he had. He just had to keep going.
They pulled away.
Kayne rocked on his heels, looking pleased.
“What’s next then, boss,” Charlie asked. He felt something heavy in his hand.
“Next? You need to figure out how to draw the King out and knit him back together so that you can get to the business of killing him. You wish upon a star, Charlie.”
Charlie tightened his grip on the stone.
Kayne’s laughter bounced off the walls.
And Charlie Dowd made his wish.